Life of Bot

broken off

   
(elephantitus of the knee)

   

    Today started off slow, mostly because it was windy and puking snow outside as well as Pat Moore, Nic Sauve and myself arriving late the night before. We decided to go out on our sleds and acclimate to the new terrain. Visibility was incredibly poor and our sense of direction was definitely affected by this factor.  I was in the process of leading our group out to some spots I had been to the last time I had been here. The ground seemed to be moving underneath my sled due to the snow blusterring around in such a way that it was beginning to give me vertigo. I was stoked because I started to recognize the area a little better and then it happened. The ground left and it felt like the snowmobile and myself were falling into the abyss. When the ground came, I took most of the impact in my chest against the snowmobile handles and the remainder to my right knee. Gasping for breath and screaming in the snow, I could hear my companions asking me if I was ok. I was screaming involuntarily. I was very lucid in this moment and was trying to tell myself to accept what had just happened and that I was ok. Then I stopped and just layed there. I thought to myself, "this is what the riders feel like when they case a rail or bail off a jump".
    It was the biggest polarity shift I've experienced since I can remember, moving from this is awesome to am I going to live. For several minutes I could'nt move my legs and thought I might be paralyzed. It turns out that I'm fine, just badly bruised. My heart hurts and my right leg is soooo freaking big at the moment, but it's all good. I'm alive and stoked to be that way.  My snomobile handles are thrashed, something I'll have to deal with tomorrow, but tomorrow is another day, for now, I'm icing my knee and keeping it elevated.

The wear and tear of the road: Living the Dream

(looking into the eye of Peter Line)

    It's been a while since my last post, both in the quantitative and abstract, in regards to length of time. You ever notice how the length of time of a given experience is dictated by your mindstate? For instance, when you're having the most fun ever, time seems to fly, and conversely, when things suck, time drags almost to a dead stop. These examples are not concrete since I have experienced great times that seemed to last forever. Right now, time has slowed down. It might have to do with the fact that I have reached the midpoint of a strenuous shooting schedule that began in late December locally and continued nationally and internationally through this point in time. I recently returned from a urban trip to Oslo, Norway. I love this country, it's beautiful and the people are genuinely nice. I had the pleasure to shoot photos of Peter Line, Joni Malmi, Stevie Bell, Nic Sauve & Niko Cioffi. It's only in retrospect that I can say that it was an amazing experience though. Due to the non-stop traveling before this trip had started, I was beginning to feel the wear and tear of the road. As I was packing my bags, I was stoking myself how sick this trip was going to be and also accepting the responsibilty of the task at hand. Airport early, Orange County to Dallas/Fortworth. My connecting flight to Newark, Nj was really delayed. Nothing you can do. ok, made it to NJ, but too late, the flight to Oslo has departed. 24 hour layover, no friendly people here. Next day at 8pm, flight delayed, ok finally in the air, why do I always get the seat that doesn't recline? People behind me kicking my seat, customs, where's my bags? Find hotel, what's up everybody?!!! Oh you missed the best day yesterday! So sunny, we killed it, standing in the pouring rain, equipment is drenched...and this is the point you start to go numb. It's catching up. Even at this point, it's hard to remember the details, could I even taste the food? I don't remember. Time is slooooowing downnnnnn...and for the next 8 days it remained this way. Fast forward to March 10th, 7am, pounding at the door. Stevie's like "yo' we gotta go, bus leaves in 15!", oh shit!, bus to airport, ticket counter, excessive baggage fees, security, take everything out of the bag, customs, gate's at the end, random security, ok, take everything out of the bag, again? YES. 14 hours of actual in air time, Oslo, Newark, plane delayed, Chicago, RUN, phew just made it, Orange County, where's my bag?, file lost baggage claim. Rent car, drive to Hollywood, peep a "Wake up Lucid" show. Drive back to Orange County, dirty Motel 6, early wake up call, return car, check bags, missing bag still missing, ticket counter, security, hello San Jose, goodbye San Jose, Reno, welcoming smile, 1 1/2 to South Lake, drag in the luggage and die. Wake up two days later, time to go. 18 hour drive to Montana. This is where we are now, I'm sitting in my truck getting ready to pass from Nevada into Idaho. The sun is rising and it's a new day, a new opportunity to seize the day! From experience, I'm sure I've reached the apex of the season, in the same way a rider hit's a quarterpipe, reaches their apex and tweaks their grab, in that moment, time slows down, then it all speeds up again in reaction to gravity and the consequences of re-entry, that's where I am, and to quote Niko Cioffi, I'm "living the dream" and loving every minute of it. I'd like to thank my wife for taking care of me every time I return home wounded. I love you.

Argentina revisited...Chris Coulter

This summer I spent a couple weeks in Argentina with the Vans team and it really takes the cake as the best trip I've ever had the privelage to go on. There were so many new experiences, life experiences. I wanted to share a couple photos that I took while I was shooting with Vans team rider Chris Coulter.

(Chris on a soggy, foggy wet day in Bariloche)


(autograph session)


(inside the slash at Las Lenas)


(Chris riding up the Marte chair with Good friend Skylar Holgate)


(After a dicey ridge top traverse Chris drops into the hidden couloir at Las Lenas)


(The hole in the mountain we crawled through to get to the next section of badass)


(Concluding with the final decent down the hole in the wall couloir)

I can only imagine...

...what it must have been like when animals ruled the earth. This past week I've had the fortune to see some wildlife out in the open in Yellowstone National Park. Although I have barely scratched the surface of the park, it becomes quite obvious that it is filled with a wide variety of wildlife right off the road. I wanted to share with you a couple photos that I took from the car driving through the park on Tuesday (I was a passenger). I'd love to spend some time here and shoot photos of all the landscape and wildlife that the park has to offer.

(A big, beautiful, Big Horn Sheep)


(an amazing fox, with a big bushy tail, see tail below)




(A Mule Deer)


(A very large Elk)

    To me, it is a rare opportunity to come into direct contact with these other life forms and see how they exist in the wild. I've also seen Bison, Moose, Coyotes, White-Tail Deers and Pronghorn, no photos...yet! If you get the chance to visit Yellowstone...do it. If you don't have the chance...make it. It's a wonderful place.

Bariloche Girl

(Click to Enlarge)

Photo: ©2008 Tim Peare

Argentina

Argentine Pesos

    I know it's been a while since my last post. Access to the internet, although available, was kind of a waste of time, very slow. I met up with the rest of the Vans team down in L.A. This was the beginning of a very long travel mission, without a doubt the longest mission I've been on. I met up with the rest of the Vans team, which included: Chris Coulter, Andreas Wiig, Zac Marben, Kyle Clancy, Filmer Brian Redness and TM Doran Laybourn, in L.A. From there, we got on a plane to Atlanta and rendezvoused with Larry Nuñez from Snowboard Magazine. The flight to Beunos Aries was long but I sat next to Andreas and drank Margaritas all night. Upon arriving in Argentina, our Beunos Aries liaison, Ana, warmly greeted us with a hug and kiss, kiss on the cheek and brought us to the next airport, which would land us in Bariloche, Argentina, home of the SASS, South American Snow Sessions camp. SASS pretty much kicks ass! Travis, our host and his fiance Asia, really took care of us and got us situated. Every night there was a feast, and the campers all were frickin' awesome, party all night, ride all day. In Argentina, the hours are very different, the earliest dinner you could possibly have is 8:30 pm, you ride all day, then come home and siesta until dinner. After dinner, you start partying, then at about 2:30am, you go out to the clubs, until the sun comes up and repeat. Argentina is also famous for their meat. If you like meat, the Filet Mignon's I ate there were better than any I've had in any country without doubt. Also, the wine produced out of the Mendoza region, specifically the malbec, a tasty red wine, are excellent.
    The riding at the local hill was good, although challenging. I had a set-up problem for most of the first week that really put a damper on things, but that's my fault. Cerro Catedral is a big resort where they have extremely large condors flying around the lifts, good tree runs, and a large alpine area with a big blue lake in the background. It actually reminded me of Tahoe quite a bit. At the bottom of Cerro Catedral, snow was sparse and covered in thick bamboo vegatation. We would ride the camper bus every morning and get dropped of at the "Rave hut" where we got breakfast, beers, pizza, cigs and whatever else we would need to have a ripping time.

The Rave hut at the Base of Cerro Catedral

    I just want to thank John, Luke and Travis for their support and hospitality in our adventures in Argentina. Make it happen, go visit them next summer, mandatory! Visit their site here.
    After leaving SASS, we got on a bus to Las Leñas accompynied by SASS staff photog Ashley Barker and super guide, Skylar Holgate. The bus from Bariloche took longer than the flight to Argentina from the states, I believe 22 hours in total. When we arrived at the Resort, everything made sense. Las Leñas was covered in fresh, deep snow and was awaiting us to shred it's steep runs. I can honestly say that this mountain offered everything that I had ever dreamed about in snowboarding. Steep pow runs down the Eduardo Couloir or the mellow tranquility of el collor. The Marte chair is a seductive and elusive little bitch. She opened for one day of our week long stay and it was the day of all days. The day she opened, our crew was of the first 20 skier/riders there and we were able to get fresh runs down Eduardo's 40 plus degree face. Real nice. On this day, I ended up following or guide Skylar, Chris, Larry, Doran and some Alaskan buddies we hooked up with there, and went out to Valle Hermosa and dropped into the steepest, sweetest terrain I have ever had the privalage to be on. Skylar brought us to a hidden couloir that led to a hole in the mountain that we crawled through only to be on the top of another couloir. Seriously, a lifetime adventure come true.
    The country of Argentina is a wonderful place with really nice and accommodating people that seems to be rocking on the balancing point of tranquility and chaos. The beef is top choice, they know how to party, and Quilmes, the national beer, is something akin to our PBR, cheap and effective, a win-win in my book of dirty secrets. If the opportunity reveals itself, head down to Argentina, get immersed in the culture and drink the Fernet and cokes!!! You'll never forget it. The photos from this trip are being saved for a potential article in the February issue of Snowboard Magazine. Keep your eyes open for it!
    The travel broke me down a bit, as I write this, I'm worn down and just plain sick. Was it worth it? I'd be willing to feel a thousand times worse than I do know to do it all over again. Argentina, I will see you again!

Moonrise over Scott's Lake

    I ended up going on a quick overnight camping trip this past Saturday to Scott's Lake. For those that don't know, Scott's Lake is down in Hope Valley. Hope Valley is an amazing place that is just south of South Lake Tahoe. When you get to Pickett's junction on state route 89 south, take a right on state route 88 west and head down the road until you pass a bridge. On your right you will see a cattle gate, proceed through and find your way. I definitely would not recommend driving up there in anything but a 4 wheel drive vehicle. That's the recommendation of the prudent, our friends Dan and Melissa, are no prudes, and they charged up in a Mitsubishi Lancer. Spirit Fingers!!!
    Between the friendship, outdoors, temperature, first swims, sunsets, moonrises, shitlist the card game and singing "666 is the number of the beast" everytime someone threw down three six cards, it was one bona fide, good old-fashioned camping trip. Check out the pictures below.

                                                                                            Pictures

This is Roxi and this is her first major swim. It's like watching your kid get on the bus for the first day of school.

From left to right: Chocorua, Bella and my wife Jenn. So lovely.


Dan's pointing out some beautiful light that was to our backs.

A panorama stitch of what Dan was pointing at.


Melissa found this dead snake.

Jenn found this abstraction. There were so many frozen souls in the wood.

More souls. This one reminds me of Edvard Munch's "The Scream".

Jenn's dancing to Michael Jackson's "Thriller". I love the look on Melissa's face.

Sunset over Scott's Lake. Those clouds...mmmmmmmm. f/11 @ 1/100, iso 800

After the sun had sunk...The moon began to rise, truly one of the most amazing sights I have seen. f/11 @ 21 minutes, iso 100.

ten minuets later. f/11 @ 30 seconds, iso 1000. I increased the iso to prevent the bright moon from streaking across the sky due to the long exposure that iso 100 would require. It look like a sunrise to me.

Thanks for checking out my blog, come back and see me again soon!
(all photos ©2008 Tim Peare)